White Light
by Ramenth
Summary: When the body of a petty officer shows up in an expensive Hotel Room, has the NCIS team stumbled onto something bigger than they can handle? Meanwhile, Tim, Ziva, Abby, and Jimmy attend a joint agency forensics conference in Chicago. Spoilers for Book 9.
1. Chapter 1

"What've we got?" Senior field agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs looked around the disheveled Hotel Room with a critical eye.

"Petty Officer Joanna Wells. Cleaning Lady found her this morning in the tub, wrists slit. Called the local LEOs who IDed her and called us. Looks like a suicide, Boss," Agent Anthony Dinozzo responded from the couch.

"Suicide? I'll be the judge of that Mr. Dinozzo."

"Oh, hey Ducky. You made good time."

"Yes, with Mr. Palmer in Chicago with Ziva and Timothy, I was forced to make my own way here."

"The Body, Duck?" Gibbs cut in impatiently.

"Of course, Jethro, of course, you'll have to spare me a moment however. Without Mr. Palmer I'm afraid I'm doing all the heavy lifting as it were."

"Checked with the front desk, boss, room's in her name. She had it for three days, ended today. Do Not Disturb was on the whole time."

"How does a petty officer afford a room like this?"

"Dunno Boss. Wanted to go out in style?"

Gibbs glared at Tony flatly, "Where was she stationed?"

"Illinois drivers liscense. Could be the Naval Yard in Chicago? I'll find out though."

Gibbs frowned and made his way into the bathroom. Like the bedroom, it was somewhat disheveled, but not badly.

"Time of Death, Duck?"

"She's been in the water for quite some time, Jethro, so for a precise time you'll have to wait until I get her back to the morgue. I would guess, however, that it's been at least two days."

"I still think it's a suicide, Boss. She left a note, and I found a prescription for antidepressants in her bag."

"Not a suicide."

"Or it could not be. Uh, how's that Boss?"

"Cut her writs with a box cutter."

"Indeed, Jethro, and it looks as though they were cut through the tendon."

"Pretty hard to hold a knife if you've already cut a tendon."

"Huh. I think I saw this on CSI."

"Explain to me, Ziva, how even when we out of town, we still end up with a body?" asked special agent-cum-author Timothy McGee as he paced the empty hotel hallway and shot another a glare at the uniformed officer at the far end of the hall standing outside an open door.

"I do not know. I ask you, McGee, when was the last time any of us went _anywhere_ and there wasn't a body? Have you had any luck finding out what's happened?"

"Suicide it sounds like. They're not exactly sharing."

"Was she with the conference?"

"No, just a hotel guest. There's something fishy about it though."

"Fishy? Is your 'gut' telling you something?"

McGee rolled his eyes, "I don't need my gut to tell me this is off. They're calling it a suicide, but I was able to get in the room for a minute. They ID'd her from the front desk; there was none in the room."

"She had to have had ID when she checked in…"

"Exactly. Unless she lost it somewhere, someone took it with her."

"What about a room key," Ziva asked after a moment.

"No idea. Local LEOs chased me out before I could ask. It could be nothing; a coincidence that she happens to kill her self at the start of a Navy Conference in the hotel."

"It could be."

"… I'll call Gibbs."

"I'll get Abby."

"Abby! Are you in there?" Special Agent Timothy McGee pounded on the hotel room door for the fifth time.

After a moment a rather irate looking Abby answered. "Jeeze, McGee. Take a pill. The conference doesn't start for another two hours, and I mean hello, still getting dressed here!"

McGee raised his hands placating "Alright, Abby, now don't freak out but…"

"Freak out? Why would I freak out? Should I be freaking out? Oh god, what happened Tim. I knew it. I just knew I shouldn't have left the lab. I said to my self 'Abby you shouldn't go to this. Something always happens when we go away,' but I said 'No, Abby, you can't let your fear control you; you have to go to this. Nothing will happen. The other times were just coincidences,' but now you're here and something happened. What happened McGee!"

"I said don't freak out!"

"You'd only say that if I had a reason to freak out! What happened? Oh god, is it Gibbs? Did—"

"No, Abby, nothing happened back in DC. At least that I know of. They found a body."

"Tim, I hate to break this to you, but finding bodies? Not that uncommon. We do solve crimes, you know."

"What? No, not in DC. Here. In the hotel."

"Here?! As in here here? Oh god! What happened. No! Wait! Don't tell me. No, okay, tell me."

"They're calling it a suicide but Ziva and I don't agree. With the conference starting and all…"

"Seems hinky. What do you need me to do?"

"Uh, I just thought I should let you know. Ziva's calling Gibbs. I'm going to go see if I can get access to the scene again."

"I'll get Jimmy. AFTER I CHANGE." the forensic analyst responded before slamming the door.

"Dinozzo, what've we got?"

"Joanna Wells, Petty Officer Third Class. She was stationed out of Chicago at Navy Recruiting Command. Requested leave two months ago for a week and flew here to DC. Checked into her Hotel four days ago. I checked with the front desk, they don't remember seeing her leave that night, but they're not sure. Apparently there was a wedding going on, so it was busy. Still working on financials. But we might have a bigger problem, boss."

"Bigger than a dead petty officer?"

"Dunno. I talked to McGee; they found a body this morning in the hotel where they're having the conference. It's being ruled a Suicide. McGee snuck in, though, and thinks they're wrong."

"Wrong?"

"No ID in the room. Local LEOs called it a suicide, but apparently they didn't notice. They chased McGee out when he started asking questions. Faked suicide of a Petty Officer station in Chicago, followed by another faked suicide in the same hotel as a navy conference? It could be a coincidence boss, but that's pushing it."

"When is it ever a coincidence, Tony?"

"… right. I'll go back a bag."

"Are you sure about this, Gibbs? I'll brief SecNav if you are, but it sounds a little thin. You haven't even figured out what happened to Petty Officer Wells yet."

"Faked suicide of a petty officer out of Chicago, and then another faked suicide at the hotel in Chicago where a navy conference is going on?"

"I thought the dead girl in Chicago's wasn't Navy," Director Vance responded tiredly.

"She's not, but—"

Vance cut him off, "I know, I know, you don't believe in coincidence. I'll brief Sec Nav, but I want you and Dinozzo to stay on Johanna Wells. Find out what the connection is before you go to Chicago, or at least who you're looking for. McGee and David can handle Chicago for now."

Director Vance sighed as Agent Gibbs glared at him for a moment before turning and leaving.

"I know you don't like it, Gibbs, but until we know what the connection is, someone needs to stay on the case," he muttered as the door clicked shut.

"What do Navy Cops want with a suicide," one of the two CPD officers in the Hotel Room asked for the fourth time.

"Look, we've been over this. We think she's connected to another investigation back in DC, and it wasn't a suicide," McGee rolled his eyes.

"Look, I don't know what they teach you in 'NCIS'," the other officer replied squeezing as much scorn into the acronym as he could, "but she's a suicide. There's even a note."

"Of course, because Suicides always end up without ID in a hotel room."

"She probably lost it. Whatever, if you want to waste your time that's fine with me. We have better things to do." With the that the two CPD officers left.

"You know, Ziva, I think I'm really starting to hate local LEOs."

"I can't imagine why, McGee. It's not as though they've hindered multiple investigations and left with our body."

"Still, we'd better look around and see if there's anything left. They weren't exactly careful with the scene. We know there's no ID but whoever attacked her might have left something."

Ziva nodded and the two spread out, carefully checking through the room for anything that hadn't been disturbed by the Chicago Police Department officers.

OUTLINE:

Two concurrent plots, one in DC one in Chicago at start. Dead Navy Petty Officer in DC with the same MO as dead civilian in the building where McGee, David, and Abby are, which will be one of the 'suicides' from White Night. Petty Officer has been dead several days, while the Suicide is the night before. NCIS sees connection, goes to Chicago, takes possession of the body Dresden found the message on, reaches the same conclusion about a Serial Killer, and investigates.


	2. Chapter 2

"This was definitely not a suicide," Ziva pointed out after a few minutes of checking the room.

McGee blinked and shot Ziva a puzzled look, "And you say that why? I mean, other than the missing ID."

"The Chicago police did not remove anything other than the body, did they?"

"No, but I still don't see what you're getting at Ziva."

"Look around, McGee. Do you notice anything missing?"

"Other than the ID? No, Ziva, it looks like your standard somewhat trashed Hotel room."

"No shoes."

"What?"

"There are no shoes here. If this was a suicide, then where did they go?"

"That… is an excellent question."

"Given that whoever faked this went through quite a lot of trouble to make us believe it was a suicide, I find it hard to believe they would do something as sloppy as taking her shoes."

"It could be a trophy? Some psychopaths take mementos from their kills."

"Indeed, but then why make it look like a suicide? For that matter, if our killer taking mementos…"

"He's going to strike again. Unless there was something about the shoes that he'd kill over. I'll check and see if there have been any other suspicious suicides in the area or DC. Ziva, go check with the front desk for security video, I saw a camera in the hall."

"I will also inform Abby of what we have found, and brief Gibbs."

"Ah… yeah. That would be good."

* * *

"I checked the security video, Boss. Looks like Wells did leave, cause we've got her coming back with a man. They head into her room around 11:30; he leaves again at 2 am. Never see his face though, he's being careful."

"Cross check that with whatever McGee and Ziva have when they check in. We need to find out if this is the same guy."

"Will do boss. Checked in with Wells's CO too, but she didn't know much. I'll have Probie and Ziva run down her coworkers when I talk to them."

"Good work Tony. What about financials."

"I'm working on it boss, but without McGee…"

"Don't need excuses, Dinozzo. I need answers. Find out how Wells could afford a week at that hotel."

"Working on it boss, but I mean, c'mon. It's just me. Cut a guy a break."

"Just do it, Dinozzo."

"On it, boss. Oh, Ducky called, said he had something for you."

Gibbs nodded and turned to leave, "When McGee calls, tell him to get Abby back here. I have a feeling we're going to need her in the lab before this is over."

"Will do, Boss."

* * *

"Abby!" Eric Beal called, "what's the rush? I thought we weren't meeting up until the afternoon session."

"Sorry to wake you, Eric, but I need your help. Did you hear about what happened this morning?"

"Uh… no?"

"Dead body in one of the rooms."

"Wait, someone from the Conference was killed?"

"No, according to Tim she was just a hotel guest. Chicago police think it was a suicide."

"But… you don't?"

"Neither do McGee and Ziva. She had no ID on her."

"Or shoes. Sorry to interrupt Abby. Who is your friend?"

"Ziva! This is Eric, he's like me. But for LA. And more technical less samples. Think… half me half Tim?"

"Nice to meet you, Abby's told me a lot about you," Eric held out his hand.

"She has mentioned you as well I believe," Ziva shook his hand firmly, "it is a pleasure."

"Anything I can do to help with your investigation?"

"Perhaps. With Tony and Gibbs still in DC working on another case, it would be a help."

"Sweet," Eric grinned and opened his laptop, "None of the morning workshops sounded too interesting anyway. I'll see what I can find on the victim."

"Excellent. Thank you for the help, Eric. I need to get this," Ziva gestured with the USB drive in her hand, "to McGee. Security footage."

"What should I do?" Abby asked, "I'm useless without my lab! Or, you know, things to analyze."

"You could help me. I don't have any back doors into the CPD or local records."

"Alright. Hey has anyone told Jimmy what's going on?"

* * *

"Guys? Hello?" Jimmy Palmer looked around the deserted lounge. They'd all agreed to meet half an hour ago to get breakfast before the conference started, but he was the only one there."

"What've you got for me, Duck?"

* * *

"Ah, Jethro, I had expected you earlier. I can safely say that this was _not_ a suicide."

"I thought we already knew that?"

"We did, but one must always double check these sorts of things. If I had been wrong in my initial assessment the whole investigation might have been a waste."

"Never a waste, Duck. Got anything new?"

"I'm afraid I don't have anything substantive for you yet, though you'll be glad to know there are no signs of rape. I did find one abnormality, however."

Gibbs stared at him for a moment, "Which is..?"

"Well frankly, Jethro, I have no idea. Normally I'd send this to Abby to get her take on it. As it is, I'm stumped. Here, take a look," Dr. Mallard positioned one of the autopsy magnifying glasses over the body, "As you can see, there appear to be some sort of marks on the flesh. They were definitely inflicted premortem, but I can't imagine what made them. It must have been incredibly uncomfortable though. They're not deep, but there are a lot of them."

"Torture?"

"Well, that's just it, Jethro. There are no signs of a struggle anywhere on the body, or any of the large injuries you'd expect with torture."

"Drugged?"

"Why would you torture a drugged woman, Jethro? But, no, her toxicology report came back clean. She had a blood alcohol level of .02, but I believe you already knew she had gone out that night, and that's nowhere near drunk enough for her to have missed this."

"Keep looking, Ducky. I need answers."

"Of course, of course. I'll call you when I find something."

* * *

Dinozzo grinned as he turned on the Webcam. It was about time McGee and Ziva checked in.

"So what's the what, McProby? I gotta say, I could use you here."

"Why Tony, are you saying you miss me?"

"Finances, McGee! I'm stuck running finances! This is your job!"

"Live with it, Tony, we're busy here."

"Yeah, no kidding. So? What do you have?"

"It was," Ziva added as she pushed McGee out of the frame of the laptop's camera, "definitely a murder. The victim had no shoes as well as no ID."

"I'll tell Gibbs. Any suspects?"

"Yeah," McGee poked his head back into the frame, "guy at the front desk remembers her coming back in around one with a 'a guy in gray'. He didn't get a look at the face, but we've got him on security feed."

"Tracks with what we heard here. Definitely a connection. McGee, send me the footage and I'll see if we can match it."

"Sending it now, Tony. And developments on your end?"

"Whole lot of nothing. We've got her security cameras with the guy in grey, we've got him leaving the room, and then nothing. I need you run down flights between DC and Chicago, find out if this guy was on one of them."

"They guy we don't have a name for? Sure Tony." McGee rolled his eyes, "Ziva and I are going to go check talk to Well's coworkers, see if we can find out why she was in DC and how she was paying for that room."

"Wait- no! McGee-"

"I'm sure we can get Eric to run down the flight information, Tony." Ziva grinned and shut the connection.

Tony stared at the blank screen for a moment and blinked, "Who the heck is Eric?"


	3. Chapter 3

Naval Recruiting Command was located in a reddish building outside of North Chicago at the Great Lakes Naval Training Center. Agents McGee and David had made good time from the hotel to meet with Joanna Well's coworkers and superior officer.

* * *

The inside of NCR was what you'd expect from an office; lines of cubicles with people working. It was, Agent McGee reflected as he sat down with one of Wells's coworkers, rather unimpressive.

"I'm sorry I had to be the one to tell you this," he said after a moment, "but Joanna Wells was killed this weekend."

The coworker blinked, "That's awful. What happened?"

"We can't really talk about it; it's an ongoing investigation. What can you tell me about Petty Officer Wells?"

"Not that much, Agent McGee. She wasn't very social."

"Any idea if someone would want to hurt her?"

"She seemed nice when we talked. She… didn't come to office picnics or anything like that. I can't believe someone would do that…"

"Did she maybe say anything about why she was going to DC?"

"DC? Washington DC? No. I didn't even know she was planning a trip. I just thought she was sick or something. Like I said, Agent McGee, we didn't really talk.

"Alright, well, thank you for your help. Could you show me to her cubical?"

"Of course, right this way. Are you going to be in town long?"

"Just for the investigation…"

"Maybe I could… show you around town?"

* * *

"I'm sorry Agent David, I didn't really know Wells."

"But you were her superior, were you not?"

"I am, but that doesn't mean we talked. She was a good worker, wasn't late or anything like that."

"Did she say why she was going to DC?"

"DC? I'd thought she was meeting with her friends. She's a part of some new age group."

"What sort of new age group?"

"I'm afraid I don't know the details. She mentioned it to me once or twice when she asked for leave though. Had some Latin name. If you'll excuse me, Agent David, I really need to get back to work. We're pretty busy, and with Joanna's death.."

"Of course. If we have any more questions we'll call."

"I'll have someone get you the contact information for her next of kin."

"That would be appreciated."

* * *

"Hey Kedzie, how are things back in LA?" Eric waved at Kedzie from one of the large screens in the LA office.

"Not bad, Eric. It's been slow. How's the conference going."

"Actually, about that. Dead girl showed up in the hotel, faked suicide. We think it's connected to an investigation in DC."

"Was she Navy?"

"The girl here? No. But the one in DC was, and she was stationed out of Chicago. I have a program on the computer there that'll get into her financials. Can you run it for me?"

"Sure thing. I'll let you know what it turns up."

"Thanks Kedzie!"

"Tell Abby I say hi," Kedzie responded, grinning.

Eric blushed, "Uh, well, I gotta go. Call me if you find anything. I emailed you the information."

Kedzie leaned back in the chair as the screen clicked off. "Alright, Sarah, let's see what your story is. Cause let's be honest, if I don't do something, Sam and Callen will drive me crazy."

* * *

"Any luck?" McGee asked Ziva as the two left the NCR building.

"Perhaps. According to her supervisor, Wells was active in some sort of new age group. That is where she believed Wells was going last week, rather than Washington DC."

"Huh. Well, better than me. Co-workers said she didn't really talk much."

"Yes, her supervisor gave me that impression as well. What about her desk?"

"Nothing; Heck, I'd almost think it had been swept clean with how little was on her computer. Apparently she does most of her work on paper."

"Like Gibbs?"

"Less sawdust, more OCD. Did you get next of kin information?"

"Her family lives in Akron, apparently, though I am not certain as to where that is. Shall we head there next?"

"That's a bit of a drive, we might as well stop by Hornsen's apartment; it's on the way."

"If she has an apartment in town, why was she staying at a hotel?"

"I guess we'll find out."

* * *

"You talk to McGee, Dinozzo?"

"Yeah Boss, he sent over the security video from the hotel. Still loading though. Network's been slow all day."

"Fine. What else do you have?"

"Whole lot of nothing. Looks like Wells had a pretty big bank account, but there's no suspicious activity on it. I'm guessing it's family money, boss. She paid for the hotel through that."

"And the dead girl in Chicago?"

"Someone's running that down there; Eric? No idea who he was, but Ziva said he was helping."

"Eric Beal. Works with the undercover office in LA; he was also attending the conference. Very good at what he does."

Tony jumped, "Director Vance. Good to see you."

"What's the story, Dinozzo?"

"Like I was just telling Gibbs, looks like Wells had her own money. There isn't any suspicious activity on her account. Ziva and McGee are running down leads in Chicago. They sent security video, but it's still downloading. Any idea what's up with the network?"

"No idea; but IT is coming to figure it out tomorrow. Keep on it, Dinozzo. SecNav wants to know if there's a connection between our two victims; ASAP."

"Will do, Director."

* * *

"Whatcha up to Kedzie," G Callen asked as he strolled into the control room.

"Oh, great. Got tired of bothering Sam and Nate?"

"Don't be like that! I said I was sorry for earlier. Seriously, what are you working on. Maybe there's something I can do to help?"

Kedzie sighed, "It's nothing, Callen. I'm just doing some detective work for Eric. He stumbled onto a case at conference and wanted me to check something."

"A case? Should we be heading out there? Please say yes; I've never seen the city so dead."

"Sorry to disappoint, but he's working with Abby and some of Gibbs's team who were at the conference."

"So what's the story?"

"I don't know all the details. Something about a pair of faked suicides, one in DC and one in the hotel. I'm getting financials on the girl in the hotel."

"Faked suicides? Are we thinking there's a connection?"

"Well… Gibbs sure is. I'll ask Eric when he calls back. It sounds like Local LEOs don't think it was even faked."

"Sounds like it might have been a professional. Anything I can do to help?"

"Not unless you think there's a connection out here."

"I'll take a look."

Kedzie shot him a level look before turning back to the screen, "You are a strange strange man."

Callen grinned sheepishly, "Hey, it beats doing paper work."

* * *

"Well well, now what do we have here?" Dr. Mallard peered carefully through the magnifying glass in front of him.

"What is it, Duck?"

"Ah! Jethro! Your timing is as impeccable as ever. I believe I've solved the mystery of the marks on Petty Officer Well's back."

"What are they?"

"Well, now, I still don't know what caused them, but I believe they are writing, or numbers specifically. Yes, you see, I ran the dots through one of the programs Abby gave me some time ago, and this is what it found," Dr. Mallard handed Gibbs a piece of paper with '19:26' written on it, "quite frankly though I'm not sure what to make of it."

"Killer leaving a message?"

"Almost certainly, but it's a very cryptic one. I thought at first it was the time, but that didn't make sense. Still, a pair of numbers is not that odd. It could have a special meaning to the killer, or even to the victim. It's certainly not as strange as some of the things I've seen. I can try to work up a psychological profile, if you wish, Jethro. Jethro?" Ducky blinked and looked around the otherwise-empty morgue, "And you've already left."

* * *

Cook County Morgue was a surprisingly large building just off of the Eisenhower Express way. It was, Jimmy Palmer realized as he walked up tot the doors, entirely unlike the morgue back at NCIS. It was a squat grey building a few blocks away from Cook County Hospital with it's own parking lot and a sprawling lawn. Not what you'd expect in Chicago or in an ME's office. Still, this was where he was supposed to be, collecting the body of the girl who'd been murdered back at the hotel for Ducky. He took a breath and pushed open the door.

"Can I help you?"

'What kind of ME's office has a visitors desk,' Jimmy wondered, "Yeah, I'm Jimmy Palmer. I'm with NCIS?"

"That's great," the man behind the desk rolled his eyes, "and?"

"I'm… here to pick up a body?"

"You can't collect bodies here, kid."

"What? Oh, no, not like that. For NCIS. We're taking over an investigation."

"And… NCIS is?"

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service. So, if you could just point me towards the ME…?"

"Look, Kid, I don't know what you think is going on, but this is the morgue for the Chicago PD. Not 'NCSI' or whatever. So why don't you just turn around and go back where you came from. You're not old enough to work for an agency anyway. What are you, twenty? Is this some frat dare?"

"What? No! Look. I just need to talk to the ME, alright? He should have the paperwork."

"Fine, whatever kid," the guard rolled his eyes.

"Look, if you'll just let me talk to the ME…"

"He's back that way, Kid," The guard pointed down one of the hallways, "Hope you realize you're breaking the law if you're not who you say you are."

"I am. Who I say I am, that is, not lying."

"Sure, kid, whatever. Fifth door on the right."

Jimmy frowned, but headed down the hallway and paused outside the door. Was that polka music?

* * *

"That footage loaded yet, Dinozzo?"

"Just coming up now, Boss. What'd Ducky say?"

"Killer left a message on the body. '19:26'"

"1926? The year the Cardinals beat the Yankees? Crazed fan?"

"I doubt it. Play the footage."

The footage, like most, was grainy, but it was clear enough. Sarah Hornsen and a man in gray, just like the last tape, made their way through the hallway. Unlike last time, however, at the end of the tape the man looked up towards the camera.

"Slipped up. Matches the description and footage from the hotel here," Gibbs trailed off at the stunned look on Tony's face, "something wrong, Dinozzo?"

"Boss, that's Darby Crane."


End file.
